


Caged

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Arousal, Awkward Boners, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bread and Circuses, Episode Related, First Time, Forced to fight, M/M, Miscommunication, Sarcasm, alternate happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on the end of "Bread and Circuses" in which Kirk finds himself aroused by the sight of Spock fighting in the arena. Things progress from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caged

The gladiator’s sword smacks dully into the shield Spock rises to meet the blow. Spock brings the shield up further, knocking the gladiator back a few feet

Kirk catches his breath. He’s not worried for his friend, not at first. He knows that Spock can defend himself. It’s Spock’s unwillingness to lead with offensive maneuvers that concerns Kirk the most. All Spock wants to do is defend himself, but that singular line of defense may get himself injured or worse.

Meanwhile McCoy is doing his best, with Flavius playing along, but even Kirk can see their little act can’t last forever. The guards grow more restless, snapping the whip out again at their backs. The sound of it cracks loudly, and Spock’s head jerks up at the sound. There’s a look in his eyes that Kirk’s never seen before, and he leans forward, reminded yet again of the guards standing behind him.

Spock ducks under the gladiator’s arm and his opponent’s sword swipes over his head. Kirk shifts in his seat. A little too close for comfort, that one. Yet Spock had ducked it easily, gracefully.

“He fights well,” Merrick comments.

“Indeed.” Claudius agrees. “If he’s the victor perhaps we’ll keep him alive for future games.”

At that Kirk’s jaw tightens. They’ll keep Spock over his dead body.

Claudius chuckles. “You’d like to take his place, wouldn’t you?”

Kirk keeps his mouth shut. He knows it’s merely a barb, but if they would only let him…

“We’ll spare Spock if you bring down the rest of your men.” A careless offhand suggestion, as though it would be enough to persuade him.

Kirk’s hands clench, pulling at his cuffs. Even for Spock he can’t do that. His tongue’s dry against the roof of his mouth as he watches the fight continue. Spock lands another blow, eliciting a grunt from the gladiator.

Kirk’s heart beats fast in his chest. As always, there is something unwaveringly engrossing about the Vulcan in the midst of violence. Yet he knows how much Spock loathes it, how desperately he must wish this to end. Kirk knows all this, knows how much Spock values his control over his emotions, and to be forced to fight, even to possibly kill for the pleasure of others is insulting, degrading even.

There is the faintest stirring at the front of his trousers, and Kirk’s back stiffens. Not here, not now, not _this_. He moves his bound hands over his crotch in the hopes that it will go away.

Spock dances back from the gladiator, his chest heaving. Underneath the slave uniform he’s another creature altogether, something lethal and unwavering. Kirk hardens even more. The shame rolls in his gut, thick and vile. He wants to go to his knees to beg Spock’s forgiveness.

Abruptly, Spock drops his opponent. For a second he looks up over his shoulder at Kirk, before he moves in to protect McCoy. He grips Flavius’s shoulder, letting him fall. The guards move in.

Spock stands there in the arena, sword still in hand, McCoy at his side. The guards surround them, guns raised. Kirk tenses, half ready to leap from his chair. The guards behind him jerk him back in his seat.

Claudius leans in. “Shall I have him executed now?” He eyes Kirk with amusement. “Shall I have both of them shot for their failure to comply?”

Kirk tears his gaze off his friends and faces Claudius. He sits there, waiting a beat, feeling the sweat roll down his back, knowing that Claudius expects what he’s going to say, and knowing he has to say it anyway.  “You do that and you’ll never get another crew member off the Enterprise.”

Claudius nods. “Of course, I expected no less of you.” His smile widens and he looks back at the prisoners. “Take them back to their cage.” He glances at Kirk again, his gaze sliding over the man’s body. His amused expression grows as he takes in Kirk’s state. “Take him away. I have plans for our bold captain.”

*  *  *

Kirk expects to be taken back to the cell to join the others. Instead he’s led off to a private chamber where his cuffs are removed and he’s left alone. The guards lock the door behind them. Kirk inspects the room quickly. There’s no exit beyond the guarded door, no visible windows. Nothing useful, no way out. But there’s a bed, and a table with food...so why the hell is he here?

“Hello.” A blond woman smiles at him, stepping forth from the shadows.

Kirk faces her. “What am I doing here?”

“Please, do not be afraid,” She steps forwards. “I am Drusilla. I was brought here for you.”

Kirk recoils. She’s a slave, meant to sate his lust at seeing his friends forced to fight for their lives. He feels sick, turning away from her.

“Come.” Her hands are warm, sliding over his skin as she leans up to kiss him, and Kirk finds himself responding momentarily before pulling back.

 “I can’t.” Drusilla looks at him with puzzled eyes. “Do you hear me? I’m done.” Whatever this game is, Kirk’s not playing it. “Did you hear that?” He tells the walls, the ceiling, anywhere that they might be listening.

“You have no desire for me.” Her eyes are soft and kind. It would be easy to lose himself in this moment, to pretend none of this is happening, but Claudius obviously has a plan and this is part of it. Kirk won’t be party to that.

“It’s not…I can’t.” He stands the ground, and eventually she bows with a disappointed air and leaves the room.

Kirk breathes a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding in. He’s alone, and now there’s only the waiting left.

*  *  *

Spock clasps his hands behind his back, focusing on a speck of grit in the cell wall. He can still hear the faux roar of the crowds humming in his ears. It irritates like the buzzing of an insect he can neither catch nor fully ignore. Apart from that there is no sound in the cell, or indeed, the entire cell block. He’s been alone with his thoughts ever since they took Dr. McCoy elsewhere. Ostensibly they removed the doctor to question him, but there’s always a chance that he’s to be returned to the arena without Spock.

_You wouldn’t know what to do with a genuine warm decent feeling._

The doctor’s words linger on, despite Spock’s decision to not focus on them. He finds that more irritating than the persistent sound of the crowd. McCoy believed what he said in the instance of speaking the words, and then with one simple look, Spock knew the man regretted saying them, and that McCoy accepted they were false.

His knuckles ache. There had been a moment in that arena where he had simply wanted to kill his opponent, to have it done. The moment, brief as it had been, still exists. He weighs it carefully, and then puts it to one side as best as he can. It’s not a moment he’s proud of, but it exists nonetheless.

Spock holds out his hands, gazing at them. The temptation to pull again at the bars despite the knowledge that it can’t possibly prove useful gnaws at him. It will serve no purpose, but the urge to do something, anything, is strong.

What are they doing with Kirk? Spock had seen him led away after the fight had ended. He assumes Merrick and Claudius are trying to further persuade Kirk to bring down the rest of the crew. Surely by now they would have realized that was a fruitless endeavor.

Then again, if they have realized that, they could have already executed Kirk and merely kept Spock for their arena.

It’s an unpleasant thought, but a possible outcome nevertheless. If that is what happened, he will have to find McCoy and make sure the doctor at least returns to the Enterprise. If that’s not possible, refusing to fight again will be the only acceptable course of action left to them.

*  *  *

Footsteps sound in the hall and Spock turns to see if they’re returning McCoy, or intend to remove him.

Instead Kirk appears, flanked by two guards who unlock the door and shove him in. Kirk flexes his shoulders, wincing watching the guards go. He doesn’t appear to be injured in any way, but there’s something about him that seems slightly off, for lack of a better phrase.

He looks away from the guards, at Spock. “Where’s McCoy?”

“He was returned to the cell with me for a short period of time, and then later removed.” The conversation that took place with the doctor isn’t relevant in the slightest so Spock keeps it to himself.

Kirk glances out into the cellblock. “I didn’t see him, so they must have taken him somewhere else.” He turns back to face Spock. “Are you all right, Mr. Spock?”

“Well enough, considering the circumstances we find ourselves in, captain.”

Kirk surveys him, his hands resting as lightly on his hips as his gaze moves over Spock’s body. “You don’t look well.” Spock’s body is rigid as he stands there in the cell, his shoulders stiff. _Stiffer than usual_ , Kirk amends. It’s only after two years of observation that he can even read the signs.  

 Spock finds this all highly unnecessary when it’s clearly the captain who is in some sort of distress. “Captain, I assure you,”

“Tense,” Kirk interrupts. “You look tense.”

“It’s not a pleasant experience to be made to perform for others.” Spock says after a moment. There. This is the sort of topic he might have been persuaded to discuss once they were back aboard the Enterprise, in Kirk’s quarters perhaps, but here and now, with the imprint of the sword still on his hand and the roaring in his ears, it’s impossible.

Kirk nods, “I know. If I had agreed...” His hands drop to his sides and Spock finds himself following the gesture with his eyes, watching Kirk’s fingers flex and tense. He has the strangest urge to take Kirk’s hands in his, so that they’ll speak to him directly, conveying the thoughts that Kirk is unable to say. Or possibly he would just like to touch Kirk’s hands. There is also that.

 “We have to figure out a way to get out of here before…” Kirk doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead he turns away towards the door, studying the lock.

“I’ve already tried the door. There is no chance of escape from that avenue.”

Kirk raises his hand to the back of his neck, and Spock watches that gesture too. This isn’t new either, this pastime of watching the captain’s hands upon his own body, but the way Spock is considering it now is. There's a rush of answering heat in his own body, and momentarily he’s startled before carefully, conscientiously, forcefully, pushing it back down.

Kirk licks his lips. “I know. Just the waiting…” His fingers dig into his skin and then he sighs, relaxing his shoulders.

Something’s bothering him. Spock folds his arms and waits, but Kirk doesn’t divulge any information. Eventually, Spock asks.

“There’s something distressing you. What is it?”

“Nothing.” Kirk’s not going to tell Spock what the man said. _“If you won’t take what I’m offering you, I’ll return you to your barbarian.”_ He’s glad to be back with Spock, even if Claudius insulted him. It doesn’t matter.

“Clearly it’s something, captain.”

“Just something Claudius said.” Kirk mutters. He can’t admit that from the sly way the man said it, the arousal he’d had at seeing Spock fight had come rushing back. And now here he is, and Spock’s alive, and he’s so damned grateful. It’s enough. Now if his dick would just get with the picture, everything would be okay.

“They won’t let me fight in your place.” The vulnerability in admitting that frustrates him. If he could just do that, if it could just be _him_ instead of Spock.

Spock merely nods. “Of course not. It’s far more effective to make you watch as Dr. McCoy and I are forced to fight.”

“That’s enough.” Kirk rests his fingertips at his temple. Hearing Spock talk about it might actually be worse than seeing it. The cool, concise tones flooding together with the imagery is enough to make him ache in places that are all too willing to respond. Abruptly Kirk turns away from Spock, facing the bars once more. _Get it together._ This can’t happen here, not with Spock only a few feet away from him.

“Captain, are you well?”

“Well enough considering the circumstances,” Kirk tosses his own words back at him. He rests his hands on the bars.

There’s a touch to the side of his forehead. “Allow me-”

“No.” Kirk wrenches backward before he can help himself. Spock had barely touched him for an instant, but there’s a peculiar tilt to his mouth as he gazes at Kirk, and Kirk fears the worst.

 *  *  *

It's only the briefest of touches, but one thing above all else had stands out _. Arousal._ So the captain is aroused by the situation at hand. It’s not entirely unprecedented. Spock can’t say he’s even surprised at this. There have been multiple incidents in the past where a variety of influences such as danger and adrenaline have had this effect on Kirk.

But this, the manner in which Kirk pulls away from him, this is new. Spock inspects the matter deeper, examining the way Kirk is behaving now. A faint flush to his cheeks, shortness of breath, and, ah, definitive physical evidence of his captain’s arousal there at the front of his pants. Spock eyes the bulge evident there as Kirk shifts awkwardly under his gaze. The captain had once had this happen during a wrestling match and laughed it off. What then, is the cause for embarrassment this time? It’s not as though he knows much Spock can smell him. The scent of sweat mixes with the much headier scent of arousal permeating the air. It’s not displeasing.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Kirk’s voice breaks through Spock’s thoughts. There’s irritation evident now, but the arousal is remains. This, Spock finds most fascinating.

“It's impossible for me to look at you in any other way.” Spock tells him.

Kirk groans, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “For god’s sake, just…” He turns away. This is officially the worst. Where the hell is McCoy? Why is it just him and Spock in here?

“Captain, is there something you would like to discuss?”

At that Kirk can’t help snorting with laughter. “That’s…pretty much the last thing I want to do right now, Spock.” He waves the concern off. “It’s all right. I’m all right. We just need to figure out a way out of here and find McCoy. Once we’re back at the ship, I’ll just,” _Jerk off until I stop thinking about you with that sword in your hands. Yeah. Right._

Spock steps closer, placing his hand over Kirk’s wrist. Kirk freezes as light fingertips travel up his forearm, gliding tantalizingly over his skin.

“Spock, what are you doing?”

“Surely that must be quite obvious.” Spock’s fingers rest in the crook of Jim’s arm, assessing. Warm skin, breath tightening, arousal growing, and then there’s the look in Jim’s eyes. Anticipation,  yes, as well as hope, but also possibly fear. The fear is the most immediately concerning, but Spock makes a note of the others to examine later, hope in particular.

“It would seem my proximity is an added factor.” Spock muses aloud.

Apparently it’s possible for Kirk freeze even further. He goes absolutely still, staring at Spock. “What do you mean?”

“Your arousal started during the fight, but there’s definitely,” he pauses as Jim pulls away, moving to the other side of the cell.

“So, what you’re monitoring me?” Kirk resists the urge to cover his crotch. It wouldn’t do any good and he doesn’t want to draw any more attention to it than already is.

“I was concerned as to the state of your well-being, captain, and then once I realized your condition, I confess I was curious.”

Any other time Kirk would have been overjoyed, hell, even amused at hearing such a statement. But not right now, not because of this.

“All right, so it happened. It’s not a matter of concern.” It’s just a hard-on for pete’s sake. He wishes he believed that.

“But it seems to be.”

“What?”

“Twice you’ve pulled away from me, which leads me to assume that my proximity is having an adverse effect on your condition.” Spock neglects to mention that when he touched Kirk the result was quite pleasant for him. The warmth of Kirk’s skin, nowhere near as hot as the Vulcan’s own, is still pleasing to his touch, not to mention the flux of his scattered emotions. Spock usually doesn’t care for the thought of probing deeper into anyone’s mind. Kirk is an exception. He’d like to examine it further. It must be the aftermath of the fight. Normally, Spock would never pursue this sort of trespassing, not even with Kirk.

Kirk is way too tired for this. “My condition, as you call it, would like you to stay the hell away right now, yeah.” He regrets the words as soon as he’s said them. Spock has never been overly familiar with anyone aboard the Enterprise, and Kirk prides himself on being one of the few (maybe even the only one) from which the Vulcan doesn’t mind an occasional touch.

Spock’s lips thin and he nods. “Very well, in the future I will endeavor not to stand too close to you, captain.”

Kirk groans. “You can’t spend the rest of your life dancing around me.” Hell, this has gone from awkward to ‘I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again,’ really damn fast.

“I have no intention of dancing.”

Kirk laughs in spite of himself, in spite of everything. This is how it is, and he can’t change it. Damn it, he wouldn’t change Spock if he could. This is what he fell…no, no, no, Kirk shuts that thought down as soon it begins to flit across his mind.

“Let’s just focus on the problem at hand.”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that’s what we were doing.”

Kirk strangles another groan. “Not that. This.” He waves his hand at the cell holding him. “How to get out of here. Find McCoy. Get back to the ship before they make you fight again.”

At that Spock exhales slowly. “I am open to suggestions, but I find it unlikely that we’ll be able to accomplish any of those three things before that happens.”

“I can’t just let them put you back in that arena.” Kirk moves over to the pallet by the wall. He sinks down on it. “I can’t do it.”

Human denial, ever present, even in the face of certainty, is pointless as ever. Yet for once Spock keeps that thought to himself. It won’t help Kirk in this moment to be reminded that he _will_ have to do that very thing.

Kirk leans back, closing his eyes, weariness overwhelming him. If they make him watch again, he’ll strangle Claudius.

_Spock, sword in hand, moving lithely back and forth, his face drawn in intensity._

Kirk suppresses a shudder, flexing his hands on his thighs.

Spock stands beside the bars, watching him. He would have thought the captain was falling asleep, but then there was that faint shudder, and the way Kirk had trembled for a second. His cock thickens in the loose slave trousers and Spock can’t look away. What would it be like to hold it in his hands, to touch Kirk intimately? He suspects he would find it very pleasurable himself.

Kirk opens his eyes and meets his gaze. He swallows hard, hands clenching.

Spock moves across the cell, gazing down at him. “What were you thinking about?”

“You don’t want to know.” Kirk stands and Spock’s hand settles tentatively on his hip.

“I would not have asked if I didn’t hold that desire.” Spock’s voice is steady.

Kirk shudders for real then. The word is velvet smooth on Spock’s tongue, making his knees weak and god, his dick is killing him. Not to mention Spock’s hand right there on his hip.

Spock leans into him and for a second Kirk can't breathe, he's so warm, and there's a weight resting against his groin. The heat of Spock's cock overwhelms him. Kirk bites his lip at the thought, closing his eyes.

"Spock."

A hand slinks over his mouth, holding him quietly there against the wall. Kirk can't help it. His tongue skips out, licking across Spock's fingers, and Spock freezes.

He draws back, staring at his hand, and then, at Kirk who can’t believe he just did that. Spock's gaze sweeps over him and then he moves in again, with a predatory look, his other hand this time pressing against the need in Kirk’s trousers. Kirk groans, trying not to buck into that hand, and then Spock's stroking him, watching his face, and Kirk leans up before he's fully decided, his mouth making the decision before his brain catches up. Spock’s lips are still against his as Spock's fingers pause and then move harder over him. Kirk groans again, feeling Spock's tongue wrap around his.

Kirk’s flat on the bed before he knows what’s happening, Spock between his legs as his hand moves up Kirk’s chest, his groin pressed against Kirk’s. The mere heat from the contact makes Kirk gasp, arching up against him, and then Spock’s fingers trail over his left nipple and Kirk comes, violently, his entire body shuddering with the force of it.

Spock stiffens, gazing down at him, his fingers moving up to touch Kirk’s face in wonderment. And Kirk turns his mouth and catches the tip of Spock’s forefinger between his lips.

The effect is startling. Spock’s eyes widen, and then he presses harder against Kirk, rutting against him in fierce eager need, until finally he sighs with his release– soft and low, an almost mournful sound. Spock rests there above Kirk, their bodies pressed together on the pallet.

Hesitantly, Kirk reaches for Spock’s hand. “Hey.”

Spock looks down at him, there’s the brush of fingers against his own, and then in the next moment he’s moving quickly off Kirk. There’s a tell-tale stain at front of his pants and Kirk knows he’s got a matching one.

“What,”

Kirk hears the footsteps too then, and pushes himself up. There’s no time to discuss what just happened.

*  *  *

The guards unlock the cell. “Come with us.”

Spock looks impassive, but Kirk can tell by his stance that being seen in this state bothers him immensely. This is all his fault. If he hadn’t gotten that stupid hard-on. Kirk does his best to act like it doesn’t matter. Maybe Spock won’t be so embarrassed.

They’re taken to the room where Claudius first tried to persuade Kirk to cooperate. Claudius is seated there, drinking wine. He smiles at them as the guards bring them in.

“I see that little reunion had a more desired effect than the charms of a slave girl.” He snickers. “Well, we all have different tastes, don’t we, captain?”

Spock glances at Kirk who glares at Claudius. “Where’s Dr. McCoy?”

“He’s a tad busy at the moment. Apparently he’s not quite as desperate as you to fornicate with a Vulcan.”

So help him, Kirk is gonna smash the man’s face in. He starts towards Claudius only to be restrained by the guards.

Claudius leans back in his chair. “If you don’t behave, captain, I’m afraid I’ll have to injure your Vulcan.”

“No, you won’t.” Kirk says, but he stops struggling. There’s a slightly defeated set to his shoulders. Claudius knows damn well he won’t let any harm come to Spock.

“And why’s that?”

“He’s too valuable to you.”

Spock glances at him again, but Kirk’s too focused on Claudius.

“You have a point.” Claudius looks at Spock in a speculative manner. “Perhaps I should put the two of you in the arena together.” From the pointed look at the stains, Kirk can’t tell if he means to fight or what. He pulls a little, but the guards hold firm.

“Tell me, Vulcan,” Claudius reaches for more wine. “Would you suck your captain’s cock to save his life?”

Kirk’s hands clench, violent and angrily. He can’t look at Spock; he can’t look anywhere else. The peculiar heated shame of what’s happening to them is twisting tight in his gut.

Spock merely gazes at Claudius. “I fail to see how the act of fellatio would save anyone’s life.”

“Suppose I were to have him shot unless you did.” Claudius raises his glass to his lips. “Well?”

Spock folds his arms across his chest, thinking about it.

“You don’t have to answer that.” Kirk tells him coolly. _But would he?_

“I’m afraid he does, captain.”

“You're proposing a scenario in which unless, I fellate Captain Kirk, you will have him put to death. Is that correct?"

Oh god, why does he have to repeat the damn thing? Kirk knows he’s never going to be able to get that sentence out of his head now.

“That’s what I’m proposing, yes.”

Spock merely nods. “Here and now, or later in the arena?” His tone is entirely casual and clinical.

 _This_ , Kirk thinks, _would be a good moment to die._

“Enough,” Merrick stands in the doorway. “Claudius, we have need of conversation.”

“I have no such need.” Claudius says.

Merrick ignores him, nodding at the guards. “Put them in the next room with the other prisoner.”

“What is it that’s so pressing?” Claudius sighs. Merrick moves past Kirk, sending him a glance Kirk can’t read, before turning to the proconsul.

The guards push Kirk through the doorway, and then Spock, closing the door behind them.

“Bout time you two show up.” McCoy drawls, stopping his pacing.

“Where the hell have you been?” Kirk demands.

“Doing what you failed to, apparently.” McCoy holds up the communicator he got from Drusilla. He eyes them. “But I can see you’ve both been busy.”

“McCoy,”

“There is little time, doctor,” Spock interrupts whatever Kirk’s about to say. “I suggest you beam us up immediately.”

“Scotty’s already standing by.” McCoy flips the communicator open. “All ready, Mr. Scott.”

Kirk looks at Spock who meets his gaze. Unconsciously, he looks at Spock’s mouth.

The door opens. “I won’t allow it,” Merrick says, and then freezes at the sight of them about to energize, and then he steps forward, clearly intending to join them.

Only to fall forward, a gurgling cry on his lips, Claudius’s dagger in his back.

The last thing Kirk sees is Claudius in the doorway, and then they’re gone.

*  *  *

As soon as they’re back aboard the Enterprise McCoy tries to have them taken to sickbay to get checked over.

Spock refuses, saying “You know perfectly well I wasn’t injured in the slightest, doctor,” before he goes off to his own quarters without another glance in Kirk's direction.

Kirk hesitates, but what the hell is he supposed to do next?

“Suppose you’re going to be difficult too.” McCoy grumbles.

“I’m fine, Bones. Just leave it for now.” Kirk goes to his quarters and strips down. The sonic shower helps little, but putting his own uniform back on is something at least.

He falls asleep in it, lying on his side.

*  *  * 

The next morning Kirk stands still a moment before entering the turbo lift. This is it.

“Bridge.”

He steps onto the bridge, surveying the crew. The bridge is the same; everything is the same. Spock turns to face him just the same as always.

“Good to see you on the bridge, Mr. Spock.” Kirk says.

Spock’s responds as expected, a slight bemused eyebrow. “Where else would I be, captain?”

There, that’s good, right? Kirk nods. “Precisely.”

He goes to his chair. Maybe they’ll just chalk it down to one of those things.

*  *  *

“Now that was a hell of a thing.” McCoy sits back in his chair. They’re in McCoy’s quarters, having a well-deserved drink after the events on 892-IV.

“You can say that again.” Kirk finishes his drink. Two days later and none of it feels real. Maybe it wasn’t. Except he can still remember the feel of Spock’s tongue in his mouth, and god help him, he wants to feel that again.

“So what happened down there anyway?” McCoy picks this moment to finally ask.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kirk rolls the empty glass back and forth in his palm.

“You need to talk about it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Kirk deliberately doesn’t look at McCoy.

“Sure and that wasn’t spunk I saw on the two of you.”

“Bones.”

“Just saying.”

Kirk sighs. “Another?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

*  *  *

It’s bad enough that he can’t help thinking about kissing Spock when he’s awake. When Kirk's asleep it’s even worse.

When he closes his eyes Kirk can feel Spock’s fingers gripping his shoulder, pressing into him, so warm, so close. In his dreams Kirk turns to wrap Spock in his arms and then as Spock’s arms entwine around his, that’s when Kirk kisses him.

At the warm press of lips, Kirk starts awake, sweating. It felt so damn real; his dick is rock hard, desperate to relive every last precious memory.

Kirk sits up. He can’t keep doing this. Clearly he’s having trouble letting go of what happened down there. So he can either talk to McCoy (he frowns at the idea of admitting these dreams) or he can deal directly with the problem.

At the thought of that Kirk sweats harder. But he has to do something about it. No doubt it’s affecting Spock too, even though there’s been no sign of it in the last few days. But it _has_ to be bothering him. What if he wants to leave? Spock should have the choice of leaving if that’s what he wants, but the thought of him leaving the Enterprise makes Kirk’s throat close up.  

He lies back down, convincing himself to try to sleep. Maybe the thoughts will simply go away. He’s the captain, he can manage this, right? He can control himself and his subconscious can go fuck itself.

*  *  *

So that’s what it’s like for a week. Kirk keeps busy, files the official report of the planet and tries to not think about it. He works out every night; hoping the exercise will help him sleep.

The dreams continue and more often than not, he wakes guilt-ridden and hard. It’s like being seventeen again, constantly aroused by every little thing. Possibly he might be charmed by the notion except for the circumstances.

For the most part Spock and he interact little apart from their time on the bridge. Kirk’s invitation to play chess is politely refused, and Spock makes no excuses as to why. He doesn’t have to. Kirk knows it’s cowardly, but he can’t bring himself to push the matter when Spock’s unwilling to be around him.

*  *  *

One morning, approximately two weeks after they’ve left 892-IV Kirk oversleeps and doesn’t have time to deal with the aftereffects of his dream. He heads to the bridge, groggy, half hard, and completely frustrated.

When he arrives on the bridge the sight of Spock in his usual place sends an agonizing jolt of lust straight to his system that makes Kirk’s heart sink in his chest. He drops into his chair with a muttered curse.

“Did you say something, captain?” Uhura looks up.

“No.” He doesn’t look at Spock, but he can feel the Vulcan glance over at him. "Let me know when the report's ready."

It’s all fine. He can handle this. He’s not a kid anymore. It’ll die down soon enough. Surely it will. If he just doesn’t look at Spock, maybe…

“Captain.”

The patient way Spock says it means he’s said it at least twice before. Kirk blinks at him. “Yes?”

“The report you asked for.” Spock stands beside his chair, holding out the PADD. Kirk hesitates and then reaches for it. Spock hands it over, and his fingers slide against Kirk, a miniscule stroke of skin.

Kirk stiffens, staring at Spock. Spock’s gaze remains level. If he has any notion of what Kirk’s thinking, he doesn’t show it at all. Kirk’s cock on the other hand, decides this is the moment to show everything. Kirk reddens and Spock’s eyes narrow.

Before he can say anything Kirk swiftly pulls the PADD away from him, holding it over his lap. “Thank you, Mr. Spock.”

“Captain.”

“You can return to your post.” Kirk doesn’t look at him and after a moment Spock does. Kirk waits, shifting the PADD. But now he knows Spock is just sitting there, observing him, ostensibly waiting for him to read the report, to do something. Kirk straightens up, pretending to peruse the report while his dick continues to be annoying.

He has forty-five minutes left of this shift and then he’s going to lock himself in his room and deal with this. That line of thinking isn’t helping the situation. Spock’s still looking at him. At last Kirk raises his eyes and stares back.

Bad idea.

He’s transfixed, sweating, and Spock just watches him avidly, as though he’s yet to figure out the problem that is Jim Kirk. His eyes are darkened slightly, and Kirk swears that he’s never seen anything as hot as Vulcan intensity.

He’s going to come in his pants if Spock keeps looking at him like that.

Kirk turns away first.

*  *  *

As soon as the shift is done Kirk leaves the bridge and heads straight to his quarters.

At last he’s alone and Kirk sinks down on the bed, resting his head in his hands. How is he supposed to deal with this? What the hell is he supposed to do now? What if this happens every single time he sees Spock from now on?

The buzzer at his door is the most unwelcome sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“Just a minute.” He takes a breath and opens the door and Spock’s in the doorway. Kirk fights the urge to just close the door immediately.

“Something I can help you with, Spock?” He doesn’t move. Maybe Spock will just go away. He can always hope, right?

“There appears to be a need to have a specific conversation, captain.”

“Really.” Kirk finally steps aside and Spock enters. “And what’s that?” Unfortunately, he already has a pretty good idea.

“Regarding the events that transpired on Planet 892-IV.” Spock turns to face him. “Previously I allowed myself to assume that it was unnecessary. After today, that’s clearly not the case.”

It would be nice if this having the desired effect and killing Kirk’s arousal. Instead it’s only emphasizing it.

“Spock, there’s….” _nothing to talk about_. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but it’s a lie. Kirk needs to be honest. “Very well. I thought we didn’t have to talk about it either, but apparently,” He swallows. “As you say, there’s a need.”

Spock waits, but that’s all Kirk can manage right now. “If my presence on the bridge, or even on the ship, is a disturbance, I can put in a transfer.”

This is exactly what Kirk doesn’t want. Why oh why can’t he even control his damn dick? “Do you think that best?”

“It would seem the logical solution since you seem inclined towards uncomfortable reactions when in my presence.”

“That’s certainly one way to describe it.” Kirk can’t help the quip. If they’re having this conversation he might as well have a drink. “Would you care for a drink?” He heads towards the synthesizer.

“Not just now, captain, but by all means, go ahead.”

Kirk does exactly that, preparing two brandies. He gulps the first one down quickly before taking the second back to his seat. Okay, he can do this.

Spock takes the seat opposite him after a moment.

“Do you want to transfer?” Kirk asks at last.

“I’ve already told you,”

“Yes, yes,” Kirk’s impatient, “But what about you? Do you _want_ to be on a different ship?” Probably it’d be easier elsewhere, not having Kirk around to remind Spock of one of the few times he allowed himself an overly human moment.

Spock pauses. “It’s not a primary wish, no.”

“Then what is?” Kirk asks.

“This is not the time for that.”

“Why not?” Kirk leans forward. He wants to know what Spock wants.

Spock doesn’t answer.

Okay. “So you don’t want to leave, then don’t.” That’s enough. He has to focus on what’s best for Spock. “If you did want to, I would understand after what happened.”

“I didn’t say the transfer was for my own benefit, captain. I thought it necessary for you.”

And now they’re back to that. Alright.

“I don’t want you to leave the ship. I want you on the ship.” Kirk hesitates. “But that’s the problem. I want,” He stops just short of saying – _you._ Maybe now Spock would understand and get the hell out.

Spock considers this. “I fail to see how that’s a problem.” There’s a brief pause and then he continues, “Except to the extent that I seem to make you uncomfortable.”

Kirk blinks. “I thought I was the one…” he fumbles for a moment, “I mean, do I make you uncomfortable, Spock?” If he can just get through this conversation without embarassing himself too much, that would be good.

Spock raises an eyebrow. “Specify if you please.”

“Me. Constantly reminding you of what happened back there.” Kirk looks down before he finishes the words. “I would understand if you didn’t want a daily reminder.”

“I had the impression that was your attitude.”

“I don’t want you to leave the Enterprise.” Kirk tells him.

“And yet the events of that transpired on 892-IV and what happened earlier on the bridge lead me to suspect otherwise, captain.”

“I, I can do better.” Kirk offers, a feeble attempt. It’s all very well to make his promises his dick has no intention of keeping.

“I don’t follow.” Spock leans in.

“I’m sorry if my uh, was …” Why is this conversation happening? Spock’s just looking at him and impulsively Kirk finishes with “distressing you.” What is he even saying? Somebody stop him from talking already. He takes a deep gulp from his brandy.

“I wasn’t the one your erection seemed to be distressing.”

Kirk chokes on his drink. “Well...put. Yes. That.”

Spock considers this. “So you, while aroused and distressed by that fact, don't in fact wish me to leave the ship?”

“Not if you’re okay with it.” Kirk bites his tongue.

Spock rests his hands on the arms of his chair. “That depends entirely on your definition of okay. I find it intriguing, but that doesn’t seem particularly relevant when it’s your concentration at stake.”

Kirk nods automatically, then focuses on what Spock said. “You find my hard-on intriguing?”

“Yes.”

“Huh, now is that more or less interesting than fascinating?”

“Your attempts at humor are most amusing, captain.”

“What do you mean attempts?” Kirk raises his brandy to his lips, conscious of the way Spock watches the motion of his throat as he swallows.

“You’re using a particular phrase simply to get a certain reaction out of me is quite definitely an attempt.” Spock threads his fingers back together.

“It was a logical question.” Kirk protests.

Spock gives him his best “I’m listening, please explain further,” expression. The one that usually sends Kirk into vague, half-considered explanations that half the time Spock finds amusing, and the rest of the time make him considering giving in and rolling his eyes.  

“What…” Kirk licks his lips deliberately this time and is rewarded with a slight gleam in Spock’s eyes. “Exactly do you find intriguing?”

“The circumstances, the length of continuation, the certain logistics pertaining to the arousal, and the fact that you seem…” Spock searches Kirk’s face thoughtfully. “aroused, but in no hurry for me to leave. Now at least.” He amends. “That is most intriguing.”

Someday this sort of shit is gonna be the end of him, but for now Kirk has a decidedly good feeling about where all of this is heading. This is flirting, right? He can’t be wrong about this, can he? And yet…all his initial concerns return with one fell swoop.

“I didn’t,” he rubs his thumb across his forehead distractedly. “I didn’t mean to cause you any...”

“What is it you believe you’re doing to me?” Now Spock sounds truly curious.

“Well, I know that you never would have,” Kirk fumbles. “Done what you did in that cell if not for the fact that they put you through hell back there.” There is open disappointment in his voice. He can't help that.

At that Spock tenses, flattening his hands upon the chair arms. “I find my loss of control extremely regrettable.”  He hesitates, because this is the delicate part. So far Kirk has admitted to not wanting him to leave, to practically admitting it was Spock that caused his arousal. “But as to the actions themselves,” He raises his eyes, keeping them trained perfectly upon Kirk. “I cannot regret them.”

“What?”

“That was not the precise circumstances I would have wished for it to happen, but I don’t regret what happened in that cell.” Now he will find out if Kirk does, though Spock’s fairly certain Kirk does no such thing.

“But, but the,” Kirk struggles to make sense of this. “I know you can’t, when you’re not.”

“These incomplete sentences are proving less than illuminating.” Spock’s tone is as dry as the desert.

“You’re not in Pon Farr.” Kirk says at last. He dares say it, giving Spock a look that says, ‘Yeah, fine, I can say it.’

“I am not.”

“Then, what,” Kirk lapses back into the incompleteness that is slowly driving Spock to distraction.

"Captain, I'm entirely capable of sexual intercourse whenever I care to be."

Kirk blinks. "Say what?”

“You seem to be under the impression that was not the case.”

“I…yeah, I did think that.” Kirk blinks at him. “So in the cell.”

“I was stimulated from the fight and I reacted without due consideration. All that I freely admit.”

“But what you’re saying is, you _could_ have done that at any time.”

“Yes.”

"So you could have made a move on anybody during the entire time you’ve been aboard the Enterprise, but you haven’t. Why not?”

"I had little interest in doing such a thing." Spock states.

Kirk looked a little too satisfied at his statement. "I see.” He takes a final sip from his brandy and sets it aside. “Little, meaning you had some…”

“Yes.” Spock admits.

“And which individual on the Enterprise was the object of that well-controlled interest?”

Spock looks faintly amused. “You already possess that knowledge, captain.”

Kirk grins. “So why didn’t you?”

Spock levels an eyebrow at him. “There was a 72% chance that you would reciprocate favorably. I found myself waiting in the chance that the odds would improve.”

At that Kirk just bursts out laughing.

Spock sits there waiting for him to regain control. Obviously Jim finds something about what he said amusing, but personally Spock thought it simply logical to consider the odds.

“I’m sorry,” Kirk wipes at his eyes, still chuckling softly. “It’s just…Spock, next time just say something.”

“Such as?”

At that, Kirk looks a tad uncertain. “Well, what do you want to do?” He looks at Spock’s lips, the proconsul’s words returning to haunt him.

“I would like to go to bed with you if that’s agreeable.”

Just hearing Spock say such a thing in his matter-of-fact tone brings Kirk’s hard-on roaring back to life. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He stands and Spock moves fluidly to his feet. Kirk moves towards his bed, debating whether or not he should take the lead or let Spock move first. How the fuck is this supposed to go? Normally he knows exactly what to do in this sort of situation, but this entirely new.

Finally he slips his boots off and looks at Spock. “What else would you like to do?”

“I would like to kiss you again.” Spock reaches out to brush his hand along Kirk’s jaw and Kirk leans into it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Spock’s other hand is on his lower back, and he looks up as Spock hesitates, and then they’re kissing, slow and explorative, Kirk’s arms pulling Spock down on the bed.

"I think I have the greater amount of experience here," Kirk starts, sliding his hand up the back of Spock’s shirt.

Spock takes the opportunity to flip him flat on his back. "May I remind you captain that we're currently here because of how attractive you find me during combat?"

Kirk licks his lips. "What's that supposed to mean?" He has a feeling he already knows, but if Spock says it, then…well, fuck.

"It means that we both know you find this," Spock emphasizes his words with a slow long thrust against Kirk's body. "Extremely arousing."

God damn him, but he's right. There's no disguising the fact that Kirk's hard right now and he swears there's a smug look to Spock's lips as he repeats the motion, sliding his covered cock along Kirk's.

"In that case what are you waiting for?" He pants.

"I confess I find myself wanting to hear you beg."

His words send a curl of lust coiling through Kirk's body. "Make me."

Spock's eyes darken. “This is going to start a precedent.”

Kirk shrugs. “You haven’t even done it once yet.” If there’s a slight challenge in his tone, well, he’s not entirely sorry.

Spock smiles then, and the sight of it is nearly enough to make Kirk beg then and there. “There’s no cause to hurry an inevitable happening.”

He draws back, half kneeling over Kirk. “In another time you would have been the spoils awarded to me after a victory.”

Fuck if that’s not hot as all get out.

Kirk pushes himself up on his elbows. “Is that right? How’d you have liked that?”

“There are certain attractive qualities about such a scenario,” Spock admits. “The fact that in such a time I could have kept you chained to my bed for days without anyone questioning it alone makes it appealing.”

Half-drawn breath – the elevated arousal – the hungry look in Kirk’s eyes – these are the responses he’s hoping for.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Spock murmurs, rubbing the heel of his palm over Kirk’s crotch.

“Well, as you say there are certain attractive qualities to it.” Kirk bites back a moan. “Perhaps on our next shore leave.” He pauses, because he’s just assumed this would go on and that there would be more after this night, but what if this is a one-time thing simply brought on by Spock fighting?

“Are you suggesting on our next shore leave I keep you chained to my bed so that I can fuck you whenever I desire?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Kirk smiles up at him. “Yeah.”

Spock nods to himself. “That should be an enjoyable experience.” He looks down at Kirk. “But for now I find chains unnecessary.” He moves back. “This would be an advantageous moment for you to remove your clothing.”

Kirk sits up. Spock just looks at him and Kirk pulls his tunic up over his head. Shirt, pants, underwear, socks. It all needs to come off. Spock’s more methodical about undressing, and then he’s standing in front of Kirk who sucks in a breath at the sight of him naked. He’s seen Spock in various states of undress before over the years. But nothing prepared him for this sight. The magnificence of his first officer can’t be denied.

Kirk stands. He walks around Spock slowly, admiring Spock from all angles, and Spock lets him, amused. “It’s the same form as before, captain.”

“Yeah, but now I get to touch it.” Kirk still can’t quite believe this is really happening. He strokes a hand down Spock’s back, coming down to rest on his tailbone before daring to go further. Spock glances at him, as Kirk cups his ass.

“I want to do this every time you bend over that computer.” Kirk confesses.

“That is something we should probably not recreate on the bridge.” Spock says dryly.

Kirk grins. “You never know. The crew might find it interesting.”

He circles, drawing his fingertips over Spock’s chest, then down to trace the length awaiting him, and then he snickers under his breath. Spock raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry, just, ah, you know, Spock’s cock.” Kirk drifts off at the look on Spock’s face.

“The rhyming effect is apparent.” Spock concludes, “but I fail to see the humor.”

“Yeah, well,” Kirk can’t really argue with that. Instead he looks at Spock and then kneels.

“Captain.”

“I think this is a good time for you to call me, Jim.” Kirk says. “Unless you’ve been harboring secret fantasies about having your captain blow you.”

Spock remains silent.

“Aha,” Kirk grins up at him, but before Spock can respond, he leans forward and licks the head. His tongue is light and warm and dexterous and yes, if Spock were honest, he has imagined this particular scenario more than once.

Kirk drags his tongue over the double ridges, and then up to the dark pubic hair, and then down again, savoring the sensation of heat.

“You taste amazing.” Kirk says. It’s not so different from a human penis, and yet, it is. The intense warmth, the faint green hue as Spock grows steadily more aroused, the double ridges. But at the same time, it’s an erect cock, and Jim Kirk isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“That seems unlikely but in all probability, hormones are clouding your judgment.”

Kirk just grins and slips him between his lips. At that Spock stops talking. He rests a hand on Kirk’s hair, and then down to cup his cheek. _This_ is what’s amazing. The intense warmth of the emotions flooding upward from Jim. How much enjoyment he’s taking in this act. His tongue is supple and fluid, moving over Spock like he’s been wanting to do this for a long time.

Spock’s fingertips caress Kirk’s cheek as Kirk sucks hungrily at his cock. The sensations ripple over his fingers and he savors each and every one.

“Jim.”

Kirk sits back on his ankles, gazing up at him as he allows Spock’s cock to lazily slip between his lips.

Spock traces his fingertips up Kirk’s cheek to his forehead. “I think we should return to the bed.”

Kirk doesn’t waste any time getting back to his feet.

He stretches out on his back, one arm behind his head as he waits to see what Spock will do next.

Spock settles beside him. He trails one hand down to cup Kirk's bare cock. He strokes languidly down the length, amused as Kirk struggles against bucking up against him, the heat pooling in his groin from the Vulcan's touch.

"Spock."

Spock leans down to mouth at Kirk's right nipple. He licks languidly around the nub and then, bites.

Kirk gasps and _now_ he's rubbing helplessly against Spock's hand. "Come on, Spock."

Spock merely licks him again and then bites him a second time.

"Spock!" Kirk grabs his hand. "Keep that up and I'm gonna come already."

"That is the desired result I believe." Spock's fingers wrap around Kirk's, pressing his palm down against his own arousal. "I like this."

"You would." Kirk moans. Spock bites his other nipple, licking that one as well. He finds the responsiveness here extremely satisfying. He imagines that Kirk's penis will prove even more so. He moves upward to kiss the soft flesh of Kirk’s throat before sucking heatedly there. When he pulls back the mark is dark and vivid against Kirk’s skin. Spock traces it with his tongue before pressing harder against Kirk's hand, eliciting a moan from him.

"I would have, you know." The confession is unnecessary, but Spock finds he wants to tell Kirk this.

"What?" Kirk looks up at him, slightly dazed.

"Sucked you off to save your life." The phrase, common yet descriptive, makes Kirk's whole body tense with realization and then, Kirk shudders all over, warmth spreading between his and Spock's fingers.

However, instead of sending the captain into unparalleled throes of delight, as Spock had previously hoped would happen, Kirk’s eyes widen and then turn sad, in spite of his orgasm.

“You don’t have to.” Kirk looks at him. “Anything you don’t want to do, just say the word.” Oh god, he wants it, but Spock matters more than what he wants , and what he doesn’t want. Damn if that isn’t a realization.

“You seem to be under the allusion that I say this, that I do this because I think I “need to.” You must realize by now that I do this because I _want_ you.”

“But,” Kirk groans as Spock grasps his spent cock.

“I find it useful to know I can reduce you to such a state at any time, simply by doing this,” Spock strokes him once more.

“Well, not just any time, Spock.” Kirk’s lips quick into that particular smile. “We have to maintain our professional dignity for the most part.”

“I hope I am always a professional.” The fact that Kirk can smile is good. He’s comfortable here, in bed, under Spock. Good.

“Extremely.” Kirk affirms.

Spock’s hand still holds him, and Kirk waits, impatient as ever. Slowly Spock settles between his legs, spreading them wider as his hands travel over Kirk’s knees up to his thighs.

“Any time you’re ready,” Kirk murmurs.

“I believe you showed some desire in having me make you beg.” Spock looks at him casually, as his forefinger slips down to caress over Kirk’s hole. The heated touch makes Kirk jump, and Spock pins him, holding him place as he continues the motion.

“Damn it, just,” Kirk tries to hold back, but Spock knows exactly what he’s doing and the desperate keening noise escapes his throat.

“Lubricant is necessary for this preparation.” Spock tells him.

“First drawer, on the left.” Kirk motions at the desk. Spock gets up.

Kirk moves to rest his chin in his palm, watching with appreciative eyes as Spock moves. He leans over slightly as he opens the drawer and Kirk can’t help the slight murmur that escapes him.

“While I appreciate that you find my body pleasing, captain, you’re going to have to work on refraining from that sort of reaction when it’s in motion.”

“I’m afraid that might be impossible.” Kirk tells him.

Spock purses his lips as he settles once more on the bed. “Spread your legs.”

“Yes, sir.” Kirk does just that. This is really happening. His cock twitches at the realization, stirring again in spite of himself. He falls silent, watching as Spock slicks his fingers. Warm, slicked fingers slide over his ass, down his cheeks, rubbing curiously at his hole. Kirk sucks in a breath as Spock’s finger enters him.

Spock’s left hand rests on his stomach, almost comfortingly, and then he inserts another finger.

Kirk bites his lip. “You’re very good at this.”

“I take the necessary care with things that require it.” Spock twists his fingers and Kirk gasps. “This is one of those things.”

Spock’s fingers move inside him at a steady pace until Kirk can’t take it anymore and he reaches down to place his hand over Spock’s. “Enough.”

For once Spock concedes. There’s a rough quality to Kirk’s voice, thickened with arousal that supports his statement. He positions himself, adjusting Kirk’s legs as the tip of his cock rests at Kirk’s hole.

“Well,” Kirk says, impatiently. They’re so fucking close. He can feel the heat from Spock rising against him.

Spock waits, just gazing down at him. His fingers hold Kirk’s hips in place, and slowly, deliberately, Kirk hardens as he realizes what Spock’s waiting for. Damn it. He looks at the ceiling, counts to seven before he gives in, (let’s face it, he was always going to give in) and looks up at Spock.

“Fuck me.”

Spock’s eyebrow suggests the idea that Kirk can do better than that.

“Please,” Kirk groans, “Fuck me, just fuck me.” He’s dying here, and Spock’s going to make him wait until he begs enough to satisfy him. He presses forward, rubbing against the head of Spock’s penis. “Come on, Spock, I know you’ve been wanting to do this.” He smiles. “Fuck me, until I can’t walk.”

“That,” Spock murmurs, “would be highly ineffective.” He grips Kirk’s hips tighter. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” He shifts slightly, and then before Kirk can open his mouth again, there it is, sliding into him like it’s so damn easy, and fuck if the heat doesn’t spread through his entire body at the feeling of being filled by Spock.

Kirk gasps, his hands gripping Spock’s back, pulling him down for a kiss as Spock starts setting a steady rhythm. He’s doused in heat, but it’s not unpleasant, Kirk discovers. His hands ease down Spock’s back to grip his ass, liking the feel of the muscles pushing underneath his fingertips. If next time happens, he wants to experience the reverse effects of this heat, but for now this is good. Hell, this is more than good.

He places his hands over Spock’s on his hips, stroking his fingers and Spock shudders, and speeds up. Kirk’s leaking pre-come over his belly, and Spock moves his hand to wrap around his dick, teasing the most exquisite ripples of pleasure out of him.

Kirk tightens around him, and then he’s coming for the second time, spilling over Spock’s fingers as Spock brushes his prostate, coming wordlessly and endlessly as Spock strokes his dick with an almost brutal grip until Kirk’s completely drained.

Spock keeps moving, the rhythm of his thrusts steady as ever, until Kirk lays a hand over Spock’s right hand, caressing his knuckles. Spock comes with a heated rush inside Kirk, his fingers trembling against Kirk’s.

*  *  *

During the throes of orgasm Kirk hadn't thought about it, but afterwards when he’s lying there on his back, sweat cooling on his skin, then it crosses his mind.

“Next time, with the meld it’ll probably be more intense.” He can’t really comprehend that, but imagines it’ll be amazing.

Spock doesn’t say anything, and then, “I won’t be melding with you during our next copulation.”

Kirk can’t help grinning at the word, but then he stares at Spock. “So, when?”

Spock folds his hands over his stomach. “You assume the melding will be a matter of course. That is rather presumptuous.”

“Well.” Kirk falters. Okay, so he did assume that. It only makes sense if Spock is willing to have sex with him. Unless he doesn’t want to meld with Kirk. Maybe he wants to wait. “I get it, if you’re not ready to meld with me.” He sits up, reaching for his underwear.

“It’s not on my account that I refrained,” Belatedly Spock realizes this may not be the right thing to say.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kirk turns to look at him over his shoulder as he picks up his undershirt.

“I simply meant that a meld is a very personal act.”

Kirk yanks his shirt down. “More personal than sex.” It stings and he can’t explain it.

“In many ways, yes.” Spock says.

Kirk stands, pulling his pants on with with tight, jerky fingers. “So I’m good enough to sleep with, but not to meld with.” The words hang in the air, sharp and ugly. Kirk pauses, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I didn’t mean that, Spock. You know, if you don’t want in my head...” Why does that cause such a pang of hurt in his chest? It’s not like he wants someone running around in his head all the time.

“Once again you presume,”

“Then why,” Kirk interrupts.

“You may not care to be that closely joined with a sexual partner.” Spock says, direct as ever.

“What?” Kirk stares at him.

“In the past you have had numerous romantic attachments that caused you great joy, yes, but also great pain and I have no wish to add to that.” Perhaps they should have discussed this before sex. In this Spock is at fault for he had been the one to presume that Jim would be relieved at not melding during sex.

“But you’re not going anywhere.” Kirk says, as though that explains everything. “You’re staying on the ship.” They’re going to continue. This is going to continue. _Next time_ , Kirk thinks, _maybe I’ll just pretend to be asleep afterward._

He reaches for his boots.

“Yes, and statistically speaking you will encounter someone that you desire, and then-”

“Hold on, you think I’m going to meet someone else? _That’s_ what this is about?” Of all the reasons Spock could have given him…

“Would you like me to give you the percentages?"

“So you’re doing this to protect yourself, really.” Kirk tugs his boots on.

“Partly,” Spock admits. “Emotional distress does not appear particularly pleasant.”

“You can be damn straight, it’s not.” Kirk grits out. He pulls his tunic over his shirt. Spock is just sitting there on the bed, looking at him.

“If you would prefer me to leave,” Spock rises.

 “No, it’s,” There’s nothing he can say right now that will help. Kirk turns towards the door. It’s too early for his shift, but he can’t stay here in his quarters with Spock spouting pointless dribble about why he doesn’t want to get in too deep.

“Jim.”

Kirk pauses at the door, and then keeps going.

*  *  *

Spock remains in the captain’s quarters for a moment, and then he starts to gather his clothing together. He should have foreseen that Kirk would expect the meld, and prevented any unnecessary confusion.

However, he’s starting to think that unnecessary confusion is the way of most human interaction.

*  *  *

Bones takes one look at Kirk as he steps onto the lift and sighs. "Trust you two to sleep together and make things worse."

"I don't want to talk about it." Kirk keeps his focus on the wall.

“Nice hickey.”

“What?” Kirk stares at him.

McCoy reaches over to brush just above his collar. “Spock marked you good and proper.”

“Damn it.” Kirk pulls his collar up. How could he have forgotten that?

“So what the hell is the matter now?” McCoy crosses his arms.

“Beyond the fact that we’re having this conversation? Nothing at all. Everything’s peachy.”

"I don't know why I even bother dispensing advice. It's not like you ever follow it."

At that Kirk turns. "For the record I did follow it, and it didn't exactly make things better."

"Of course." Bones nods. "So what happened?"

Kirk hesitates. It’s not like talking about what they actually did in bed, but it is still personal. He understands that. On the other hand, they didn’t do it so it doesn’t matter if he talks about it. _Take that, logic_. "He won't meld with me."

McCoy stares at him, until he just erupts into laughter.

“Are you done?”

The doctor shakes his head, wiping his eyes. "You sound like a petulant kid. He should spank you.”

Kirk points at him. “Don’t go giving him any ideas. That’s the last thing I need.”

“Seriously, Jim, that’s what’s bothering you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” The doors open at the observation deck and Kirk steps out. “It’s like being told you’re pretty enough, but nobody’s invested in your brain.”

“Yeah. Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

The doors close again before he can retort.

Now it’s just him and the stars. Kirk leans on the ledge, looking out the window.

This was probably all a mistake, but is there is any possible way to go back to the way things were before? Now Spock really will want a transfer. Kirk sighs. If he’s honest, he doesn’t want things to return to how they are, but he can’t help the hurt he feels at Spock’s flat rejection at the suggestion of progressing further.

The doors open again and he looks up. McCoy holds out a mug.

“Now, I know you probably want to be alone and sulking, but I thought you might want this.”

“I do not sulk.” Kirk accepts the mug anyway. The coffee is hot, and there’s more than a dash of whiskey in it. They sip together in silence before McCoy speaks up.

“Is that really the problem?”

“What else would it be?” The look on McCoy’s face makes him grimace. “All right, there could be more, but that’s it for now. Isn’t that enough?"

McCoy takes another sip. “You ever think Spock might be protecting himself, hell, even the both of you for that matter?”

“How’d you come to that?”

“When was the last time you were in a serious monogamous relationship?”

Kirk gives him a look.

“Exactly. There’s no point. You’re on the ship. You’re always on the ship, for better or worse, and the thing is, so’s Spock. Unless he decides to transfer after this mess, which I wouldn’t blame him for. And unless it’s escaped your notice Spock _likes_ being on this ship. He likes being your first officer, and as much as I enjoy the fact that he finally gave in to the urge to stick his dick up your ass,”

“Hey,”

“I understand the reasoning behind his not wanting to risk what he already has.”

“Well, if he hadn’t wanted to risk it, he never should have touched me.” Kirk says, mulish as ever.

“Yeah, well, he’s half human.” McCoy shrugs. “It was bound to catch up with him sooner or later.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

McCoy takes another sip before frowning at Kirk. “Chances are, if you leave it alone his Vulcan side will win out and things will go on, more or less as they were before. But whether or not the risk is worth it, that’s up to you and Spock.”

Kirk nods. He stares at the mug in his hands. Is it?

“Think it over, Jim.” McCoy claps his shoulder and heads back to the lift.

“Thanks.” Kirk says.

McCoy just rolls his eyes. “In the future, you’ll have to figure out your own relationship problems. I’m not doing this every time you two have an argument.”

Kirk laughs. The doors close. He sinks down to sit on the floor, wincing slightly as backside reminds of what he was doing not too long before. _Great_. He balances the mug on one of his knees, leans his head back and lets himself drift.

_In the past you have had numerous romantic attachments that caused you great joy, yes, but also great pain and I have no wish to add to that._

Spock doesn’t want to hurt him. Kirk can appreciate that. And if it’s not enough, maybe Kirk should leave it alone, to risk hurting either of them anymore. But the thought of being without Spock is worse. It hits him low in his gut, and tight in his chest. He can’t breathe at the thought. Whatever this is, he doesn’t want to lose it now. If Spock can bear to touch him without melding, then maybe it is enough. Maybe it'll have to be.

*  *  *

It takes him a full 24 hours before Kirk finally shows up at Spock’s quarters.

The door opens at his request, and Spock looks up from his computer. “Captain.”

“I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved last night.” Kirk claps his hands behind his back. Now that he’s here, all he can do is remember how he left Spock – naked in his bedroom, after they’d had sex .

Spock rises. “Your apology is accepted. Is there anything else?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” _Just spit it out, damn it_. “I understand why you were reluctant at the thought of melding with me. I get it.” Kirk licks his lips, nervous, what if he says this wrong? “I’m not sorry about what happened, but you’re right. I’m going to look at women. I’m going to flirt with ambassadors. That probably won’t change. But after that I want to be able to find you and play chess with you until you get tired of being beaten and we go to bed.” He stops. “If you’re up for that. If that’s enough for you without a meld. Even if you never want to meld with me.”

He exhales softly. “Because you’re right, emotional distress isn’t pleasant. But the other parts, those _are_. It’s a promise. It’s a risky, chancy, promise, Spock, but there’s also a degree of certainty. That certainty that when I look at you, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Spock stands there silent and contemplative in the onslaught of all this. In this instant Kirk can’t read him at all and it’s as though they’re standing on opposite sides of the universe. _Say something, anything._

Spock breaks the silence at last. “You assume you’ll win the chess match.”

Kirk stares at him. “That’s what you’re focusing on here.”

“It’s the uncertain factor in the equation.” Spock steps forward. “You should probably accept that.”

“So the rest is simply a foregone conclusion, you mean.” Kirk smiles in spite of himself. The heaviness in his chest lightens. The way Spock’s looking at him now is obvious beyond a shadow of a doubt, maybe not to anybody else, but then it doesn't have to be. The heat of that look brushes over Kirk’s skin until he can feel himself grinning like an utter fool.

“Precisely.”  Spock moves closer. He reaches out to take Kirk’s hand. He has every intention of melding with Jim one day. Spock is certain of this. In the meantime, there is this, his hand joining with Kirk’s, sending light flutters of joy and pleasure dancing over Spock’s entire body.

“Good.” Kirk places his hand on Spock’s chest. “I like being a foregone conclusion.”

Spock clasps his hand over Kirk’s, holding it there. He can feel the rising warmth of Kirk’s affection and desire twisting together, reaching for him.

“So there’s a chance we will meld at some point.” Now Kirk just feels like he’s pushing it, but it’s better to get these sorted, right? Rather than just leave them hanging? Spock never said _never._

“You’re correct. I did not say we would never join in that fashion. I only mean there is plenty of time.” Yes, he wants to, he wants to slip into Kirk’s mind right now. But there will be time enough for that.

“Yeah, well, it better happen before your next Pon Farr.” Kirk murmurs, then looks embarrassed. “I mean, if you want it to.”

“It’s not a topic for levity.”

“I know that. I only meant getting you back to Vulcan in time was hard last time, and think how handy it would be-”

Spock places his fingers on Kirk’s lips. “I do not desire you because it’s handy.”

Kirk mumbles, “I didn’t mean you did, just.” The heat from Spock’s hand seeps through him, and he remembers what happened in the cell, remembers how Spock looked at him then, and oh, he knows Spock is remembering it too.

“Jim, enough,” Spock’s fingers slide up Kirk’s neck, stroking him.

Kirk leans into his caress. “This apology comes with sex by the way.”

“I assumed.”

“If you’re in the mood.”

“It’s an acceptable time.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” Kirk clasps his hand over Spock’s drawing him over to the bed. “Thanks for the hickey by the way.”

“My pleasure.” Spock says.

“Bones thought it was funny.”

“I had a feeling he might.”

“You mean you did it on purpose.”

Spock doesn’t bother answering that, too busy drawing Jim’s pants down over his hips. His cock bobs free and Spock eyes it, tenderly, almost affectionately. It’s biology that helped with all this, Kirk’s biology, his body knowing what he wanted before his brain caught up with him, and for that Spock is grateful. He leans down.

The noise Kirk makes is extremely gratifying.

Kirk stares down at the sleek head between his thighs with a dazed expression.

“Yeah, you can save my life any time.”

Spock purses his lips. “As your first officer, I believe that is my duty.”

“You’re right.” Kirk grins.

Spock leans forward to capture his lips in a deep, arousing kiss. “You should know I take great satisfaction in performing my duty, captain.”

“I bet you do.”

Spock reaches for his tunic, pulling it up. Kirk lets be drawn over his head, and then, quickly, they undress each other until they’re naked and Spock stretches out on his back, pulling Kirk to kneel over him.

His cock nudges at Kirk’s ass. Kirk steadies himself, grinning down at Spock as he swipes his fingers over the head. The self-lubricating factor is convenient, no doubt at that. He watches Spock watch his hand as he inserts a finger inside himself. It doesn’t take much this time, but the way Spock’s eyes darken and lips part, Kirk’s fairly certain he’s just found one of his first officer’s kinks.

He adds another finger, solely for the enjoyment of observing Spock watch his fingers as he works them inside himself. The cock between his legs nudges more insistently and Kirk looks down at it.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

Spock takes a deep breath. “There is no need for further conversation at this time.” His voice is raw, and Kirk’s cock stiffens at the sound of it.

He positions himself, sinking down slowly onto Spock. Spock’s fingers rove lightly over his chest as Kirk starts to move on his cock. Kirk’s head falls back as Spock teases his nipples. His own cock strains for attention, but Spock ignores it, focusing on the way Kirk’s nipples respond to his touch.

Sweat beads along Kirk’s chest as he takes Spock deeper. He can’t imagine how much more intense it’d be with a meld, because this is fucking incredible. He’s hovering right above the precipice, but Spock merely holds him there, taut with unfulfilled need. His thumbs stroke Kirk’s nipples, before gliding down to his back, settling on his ass. Kirk moans as Spock pulls him deeper. He’s so full, he can’t take any more.

When did he close his eyes? Kirk can’t remember. He opens them, licking his lips, trying to focus, and finds Spock gazing up at him with an expression he’s not sure what to make of. Kirk leans down, stifling a groan as his cock eases between them, hard and needy.

His lips brush over Spock’s in light, teasing kisses as he moves. Spock’s fingers dig into his ass, and Kirk catches his bottom lip, tugging hard enough to draw a growl forth from Spock. Waves of heat pour over Kirk’s skin, and he gasps, his cock jerking hard between their bodies, releasing everything he’s got. Spock’s fingers are a vise on his ass as he follows, cock pulsing inside Kirk. Kirk just knows that tomorrow he’s going to feel that, but right now, he’s drowning in the heat, Spock’s heat, and that’s all that matters.

Spock tugs him down to rest upon his chest and Kirk goes, closing his eyes. He’s going to fall asleep, he knows that too. The last thing he manages to think before drifting off is, ‘ _I love you, but you already knew that.’_

There’s a hazy murmur of reciprocation, and Kirk goes to sleep with a smile on his lips.

 *  *  *

_Six months later:_

When it happens, because of course it happens, it takes Kirk a moment to realize. There’s a tingling sensation at the base of his skull, reaching outwards, and then there’s a jolt of blinding ecstasy cascading over him. Speechless, he looks up at Spock as he pulls his hand away.

 _Foregone conclusion,_ Kirk thinks dazedly, _yeah, sounds about right._

There’s a flutter of amusement, oh man, Spock thinks he’s funny, Spock finds it amusing that he’s pleased by Spock thinking he’s funny, and, “This is all going to come back to bite me in the ass, isn’t it?” Kirk murmurs, drowsily, lazily contentment filling him from head to toe as he basks in the warmth of Spock's emotions.

Spock’s fingers brush across his chest. “I assure you if anything’s going to do that, it will be me.”

Kirk’s eyes widen, and there’s that rush of amusement again. He kisses Spock, thinking, _this is just the beginning._

This is the next adventure.


End file.
